


Get Freaky

by theUntitled



Category: Hockey RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Bodyswap, Chicago Blackhawks, Intended Humor, M/M, freaky friday AU, im new to "fandom" terminology
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-02-03
Packaged: 2018-01-11 03:27:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1168111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theUntitled/pseuds/theUntitled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Don't wanna grow up, just wanna get out, hey, take me away!</p>
<p>In which Jonathan Toews and Patrick Kane eat magic fortune cookies and swap bodies. </p>
<p>If you've never seen Freaky Friday then I can't help you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Contempt

**Author's Note:**

> Completely and utterly fictional. In no way does this express the actions or views of people in reality. 
> 
> Like I said, I'm new to this. I'm just a hockey fan who likes to write. Sorry if I don't go about this in a proper way. 
> 
> Literally I just found out that "AU" meant alternate universe.

Patrick leaned against the boards and thought about owning a ferrari. Of course, it would be bright red with two black stripes on the body. Maybe he would get gold rims- yes he would definitely get gold rims. He’d go to Germany and just gas it- two hundred miles per hour or whatever the fuck it would be in kilometers (he’s american, no way he’s learning metric shit).

“Kaner, you think you’re so great that you don’t have to practice? Get your lazy ass on the line.” Jonny interrupted Patrick’s daydream with a shout that echoed all through Johnny’s ice house. It was an optional practice and Coach Q wasn’t even there. Patrick clenched his teeth and skated to the line. _He thinks he’s next in line for coach just because he has a fucking “C” on his jersey? So fucking high and mighty._

Recently Patrick and Jonny were arguing more often than not. It happened in every situation. During yesterday’s game, the two would trash talk each other more than they would trash talk the other team. It got so intense that Coach Q had to put them on separate powerplay lines. Neither picked up a point that night and both finished -2 and -3. The Blackhawks lost 1-5 to the Florida Panthers. Even Soupy, who was always excited to see his old teammates again, was baffled by Patrick and Jonny’s behavior. The animosity continued in the locker room while the others took off their gear in silence with wide eyes. Sharpie finally intervened and pulled Patrick into the hallway before Coach Q ripped their heads off. It was that bad.

This practice obviously wasn’t any better. Jonny couldn’t stand the sight of those awful blonde curls that framed Patrick’s face like serpents emerging from the desert sand. His voice made Jonny cringe; it took all of his energy to stop himself from wringing Patrick’s neck. However, as a captain, it was his duty to keep the team calm, focused, and driven. He did, although, take every justified opportunity to reprimand Patrick, to take his swollen ego and drain it of every ounce of confidence. Patrick’s suffering weirdly made Jonny smile.

That night, Seabs, Duncs, and Sharpie decided to all get take out and play video games at Sharpie’s house. No one wanted to pick a side in Patrick and Jonny’s war, so they invited both of them. It was comical almost, both of them sitting at opposite sides of the room, pretending the other didn’t exist. Seabs suddenly stormed in through the door with the food.

“So they had five for two orange chicken and I couldn’t pass up a deal like that so you boys better eat up.”

“Seabs it’ll be you eating the whole damn thing, fatass,” Duncs chimed in.

“You wish you had my physique!”

“Just hand over the bags.”

They distributed the plates, forks, and food to everyone before diving in like ravenous wolves. After dinner, Duncs and Seabs were the first to the controllers and descended into a virtual battle of imaginary speed. Patrick and Jonny sat on either side of the couch with their eyes fixed on the television. Neither had said much the entire evening. Jonny cracked his knuckles and Pat rubbed his sore neck. Obviously, Sharpie was left to clean up and break out the beers. Before throwing away the brown paper take-out bags, he noticed the unopened fortune cookies.

“You guys forgot these,” Sharpie yelled while throwing the wrapped fortune cookies at Duncs and disappearing into the kitchen.

“Hey! I’m trying to play here.”

“Nah come on Duncs let’s take a break and eat.”

“Of course you want to eat.”

“Shut your mouth.”

Seabs, with childlike excitement, unwrapped his dessert while throwing two fortune cookies back at Patrick and Jonny, who then methodically opened their cookies with expressionless faces.

Patrick cracked open the fortune cookie and glanced at his fortune. It read,“A journey soon begins its prize reflected in another's eyes when what you see is what you lack then selfless love will change you back.”  _Another fucking quote, whatever._ Patrick gobbled up the treat in one bite.

At about the same time, Jonny decided to read his fortune. He didn’t like to admit it, but he took fortune cookies seriously. Although Jonny prided himself on being the least superstitious player in the league, this was one quirk that he held onto. After cracking the cookie open, he flipped over the little white slip of paper and read the fortune to himself. It read, “A journey soon begins its prize reflected in another's eyes when what you see is what you lack then selfless love will change you back.” Jonny tried his best to make sense of the convoluted quote, but he was far too mentally exhausted. Leaning back against the couch, he ate the cookie, and he took a long, deep breath. It had been a rough couple of days.


	2. The Switch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That "oh shit" moment

Pat literally threw his phone across the room to turn off the alarm. His eyes felt glued shut. The word “tired” didn’t do justice to the feeling Pat had, but he had practice. While yawning, he stretched out but his toe hit the frame of his bed. _Fuck that hurt. How the hell did my leg reach down that far?_ He glanced at his legs but regarded them with strange unfamiliarity. He blinked a couple of times in order to focus his vision. Still weird. He didn’t have time for weird legs. Pat ran his fingers through his hair and suddenly pulled back. _What the fuck happened to my hair- it’s fucking short. I’m going to kill Sharpie._ This led him to look at his unusually large hands. This time he said his thoughts aloud. “Yeah, this is not normal. AHHH what’s wrong with my voice? Holy shit- I sound like,” Pat Didn't finish his sentence because he was jumping out of bed in a panic, which consequently made him fall on his ass. It didn’t hurt. His butt didn’t hurt. Pat’s stomach dropped, and he proceeded to the bathroom mirror.

At about the same time, Jonny obeyed his alarm clock and started walking lethargically to the bathroom. A million thoughts raced through his head, which wasn’t unusual. He did however have a very stiff neck. Jonny’s eyes were still closed, yet he could maneuver in his apartment blind with no problem. _We should probably work on two-on-ones today, oh, and definitely practice our penalty kills._ Jonny faced the toilet and prepared to pee. He jumped back, stumbling on the bathroom floor and backing into the towel rack. “What the fuck that...is not mine.” He held his breath and he recognized the high pitch voice that came out of his mouth. He was definitely awake now. With wide eyes, he gazed at the mirror and proceeded to violently shake his head. Patrick was inside his mirror looking like he’d seen a ghost. Mirror-patrick mimicked Jonny’s movements exactly. _This is it. I’ve finally snapped. I guess I couldn’t handle the pressure. I’ll have to resign at the age of twenty-five. Maybe I have brain damage; my neck does hurt. I probably don’t have long to live._ Jonny accepted the fact that his sanity abandoned him, so he sat against the wall of the bathroom with his head in his hands, waiting for someone to find him.

There was a pounding at Jonny’s door; it was so loud, that the table shook and the lamp swayed. “Open the fuck up Jonny! or whoever you are!”

Jon slowly lifted his head. _Wonderful. Now I’m hearing myself everywhere. Maybe I should get a lobotomy._ Jonny, in a state of complete disallusion wistfully walked out of the bathroom and to the door. The knocking grew louder but Jonny took his time unlocking the door.

“Oh god you’re me. What the fu- how did this happen? Why the hell did you steal my body? Are you fucking mental?” Pat came in shouting like John Tortorella. He was about to punch Jonny in the face, but suddenly held back. He couldn’t mess up his own face.

“Pat, why are you me? I’m not crazy? Are you just another illusion?” Jonny rambled off.

“No you shithead this is fucking reality. Some voodoo shit put us in different bodies and I sure ain't wearing your constipated face the rest of my life!”

Jonny started to come to his senses and whispered, “How the hell did this happen,” then shouted, “My face is better than yours, kaner, you look like a twelve-year-old girl.”

“If you weren’t...me...I would beat the shit outta-”

“There’s no time for this. We need to call someone, maybe a doctor?”

“A doctor would send us to the loony bin.”

“Then maybe a scientist.”

“And what exactly are we going to tell some guy who looks at stars all day?”

“Oh my god kaner you are an idiot. I won’t call fucking NASA I’ll call a- what do ya call em- biologist. Maybe they can do some DNA transfer shit.”

“Oh I’m the idiot now? You think I’m going to let some nerd in a lab cut me open and take out my DNA? First of all, I’m pretty sure that’s not even a thing, and we don’t know what caused this anyway.”

Jonny was silent. He looked down at his hands- or Pat’s hands. He hated this more than anything. He would have switched bodies with anyone else, but he gets stuck with this little prick. A pale color of hopelessness washed over his face as if he’d found out he was paralyzed. “I hate you,” Jonny whispered with quiet rage.

“I know.” Patrick didn’t expect that to sting as much as it did. There was a time when he adored Jonny. He wanted Jonny to be proud of him. Patrick couldn’t recall an exact moment when the animosity set in. And right now, he believed wholeheartedly that Jonny hated him.


End file.
